


A Fine Frenzy

by Paranoia



Series: Siren's Song [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M, Multi, Other, Redemption, Starbucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:39:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranoia/pseuds/Paranoia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has lost his powers, been banished to learn his faults in midgard, and somehow ends up as a Starbucks Barista not a mile from Avengers Tower. If there were higher-higher powers, they were certainly fucking with him.</p><p>This is a story of denial, redemption, something probably pretty similar to love, and denial. This will also be a story about a river in Egypt.<br/> I'm sure you've heard the punch-line.</p><p> <br/>The third and arguably most important installment of A Siren's Song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleep Walking

**Author's Note:**

> **Alright, here’s the next installment of A Siren's Song. This is going to be the meat of the story so it’s going to take the longest to write. Comments keep me motivated as I don’t have any more of this story written at this point. I know where it’s going but the journey is really all the rage.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **This is mostly post Avengers movie, but I'm certainly going to take some liberties. There will probably be spoilers so either be okay with that or watch the movie before you read because i cannot keep reality and fic separate and will likely not notice what is and isn't spoilerish. Whoops.**  
>   
> 
> **More love=More story. :)**
> 
>  
> 
> **Beta’d by: Mazelle Morelle**
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer- I claim no ownership over these characters nor do I turn any profit from this endeavor.**

**A Fine Frenzy  
Chapter 1- Sleep Walking**

 

Tony stumbled into the Starbucks nearest his tower not ten minutes after they had opened. The lobby was devoid of even the earliest rising hipsters and working-class addicts-- not that Tony noticed. All Tony could process was an overwhelming _need_ for coffee. 

Of course, one might wonder why he needed to embark from the posh expanse of his tower for something so simple as coffee, but that was easily explained. Not only had Pepper forgotten to order more of the expensive fair-trade coffee he preferred, but his entirely too expensive coffee machine might have possibly sort of somehow semi-exploded. (Really, Tony couldn’t be blamed for it this time-- and he’d made better explosions with Mentos and Coke... and Steve.)

So, here Tony was at the neighborhood Starbucks at 5:07am, designer sunglasses slapped across his face as if to advertise the fact that his eyes were bloodshot with both alcohol and a crippling lack of sleep. 

Tony blearily trudged his way up to the counter and squinted at the menu, entirely too tired to read and comprehend any of the mumbo-jumbo. Pepper was the one who normally did this, but Pepper had told him that if he was a big enough boy to stay up until 5am drinking and working he was a big enough boy to get his own coffee because she had a meeting in the morning and needed her big-girl sleep. 

What the hell was the difference between a Cappuccino and a Frappuccino? This was entirely more difficult than it needed to be at 5am. Who the hell needed this many different kinds of coffee?

Sliding his glasses down just a fraction to try and read the useless menu board a little better Tony grunted some indistinguishable sound and made a grand gesture with his hands, arms playing wide and dramatically.

"Look, I don't give a rat’s ass what you give me so long as it has enough caffeine in it to kill an entire zoo. No, actually, I just want pure caffeine-- if the scotch hasn't shut down my liver yet, I don't think a little caffeine can end me.”

The man in front of him snorted, raising a delicate eyebrow that matched his devilish smirk entirely too well. 

"Anything?" he said, voice silky and almost sing-song in an odd, low, and... predatory tone?

Tony lowered his eyes to glare at the newest asshole between him and some beautiful liquid sleep when his eyes met the employee's, catching the most astounding shade of emerald. In fact, they were a very familiar shade of emeral--

Tony stumbled back a bit, the jolt of recognizing an enemy and his own lack of mental acuity leaving his poor body unsuited to suppress his knee-jerk reaction. 

Of course this would be the time he'd run into Loki. At 5 a.m., without his phone (the tower was right there for fuck's sake, and he was pretty sure he drunkenly lost it somewhere), without his suit, and running on something close to 4 hours of sleep for the last 4 days.

Of course, because Tony Stark lead a life that could be called nothing short of interesting and ill-timed. Perhaps luckily, Tony was pretty used to life punching him the the face when it got bored, so he managed to recover his suave asshole persona fairly quickly-- lack of coffee aside, anyway. 

On the upside Tony was feeling _far_ less drowsy now, and momentarily contemplated just turning around and leaving without his precious coffee. Instead he found himself caught somewhere between interested, amused, and scandalized. Seriously, a barista? Coulson obviously deserved a raise.

"On second thought, you know I do have a request, hold off on the psychotic sprinkles and the world-domination whipped cream." 

Tony was trying in vain to mask his amusement. Truly, he was.

"Really, Starbucks?"

In fact Tony was going to send Coulson a big giant guns-and-shit-that-blows-up Stark special gift basket (or casket if he was cheeky enough) for this. 

Loki just rolled his eyes and gave a much put-upon sigh, deftly ignoring the second question. Just as quickly as he'd melted into being put-upon Loki's expression evanesced into an eerie, blood-chilling smile that was entirely too much teeth. 

Tony was wholly disconcerted about how fluidly his emotions had flowed from more or less amicable to fucking creepy. The transition was unnatural and Tony's amusement was instantly dampered as his instincts were gearing up to run for his damn life. This was still Loki. Bag-of-cats, headcount in the hundreds, mind controlling fuck, full of remorseless destruction. This was still a man that had leveled blocks of New York. 

Tony was pulled from his less than charming thoughts by Loki's voice.

"If you insist," he drawled, smile again morphing into something far less sinister and far more... mischievous. Tony found himself returning that smile with his own cheshire grin.

Loki turned his back to Tony to make him his zoo-killing drink without so much as an evil glare or villain monologue. Tony could almost feel the adrenaline physically evacuating his body, veins that had been running cold now shriveling up in frigid withdrawal. He felt even more worn-through than he had when he'd walked into this place.

It wasn't that he was suddenly comfortable or even less worried or suspicious of Loki and his motivations. In fact, Tony was watching Loki make his drink like a hawk. No it had more to do with the fact that Tony was running on 100% reserve energy. His body could not and would not sustain the adrenaline, no matter how justified it was.

Even feeling completely strung out, Tony followed Loki's movements with a keen eye. Even though he had no concept at all what someone _put_ in normal coffee or what was any of the various containers, gadgets, and gizmos, Tony wasn't really looking for some overt LOOK IT'S POISON sort of evil-vial-of-obviously-detrimental-to-life-contents. No, Tony was more looking for any sleight-of-hand tricks that might put him in the ICU with internal hemorrhaging and a very poor prognosis. 

It wasn't terribly long until Loki capped and handed Tony a very large... _venti_ something-coffee that certainly smelled more like heaven and less like the express train _to_ heaven. 

"I left out the 'psychotic sprinkles' and the 'world-domination whipped cream, _sir._ "

Loki sneered at him with the perfect blend of snooty and haughty befit a Starbucks barista as he handed over the drink.

Tony matched his holier-than-thou tone, very dramatically sniffed the steaming coffee, and leveled his most disdainful and self-righteous look at Loki.

 _"What is **this**?"_

Loki raised his perfectly groomed eyebrow at him again and slightly failed to hide the slight upturn of his mouth that ought not be mistaken for an amused grin.

"I'll tell you... _if you like it._ "

Loki's tone promised that Tony would get no more from him, and held a contrite air of finality. It was implied that Tony would, in fact, like it. 

While Tony knew he really should be wary of ingesting anything Loki had made for the Iron Avenger, his body's Goddess of Sleep Deprivation still demanded a caffeine sacrifice at the Altar of Wakefulness, and really, who was Tony to deny a deity? 

So perhaps he looked at his cup uneasily for a second, but it didn't endure against the force that was his sleeplessness, and Tony took a tentative sip from the mystery drink.

The wonderful flavours of not-sleep, cinnamon, and hazelnut flooded his tongue and Tony grew sure of three things:

One, this was absolutely his new favorite drink (if it didn't get him sent to the hospital); two, he should definitely not express how much he liked this to Loki, because that was just rife with poor decision making; and three, Loki made a damn fine barista.

Obviously, Tony had a knack for picking out jobs with which to rehabilitate ex-ish supervillains. 

Tony tried to school his facial features back into unease and indifference, but between his body's coffee-induced endorphin rush and the perfect flavor, he was afraid that he had failed at concealing his ardor for the drink. Loki started talking again, looking into his eyes with a very intense, disconcerting gaze.

"Rest assured, Stark, that I currently have little to gain from your untimely demise. I can only imagine that not terribly soon after I'd be walking the path to Hel, courtesy of my _dear_ brother.”

Loki was giving him that creepy-as-shit grin again that was still somehow oddly arousing-- a thought he'd deal with when he was home and not in an ICU somewhere-- and Tony was seriously getting weirded out by Loki's constantly changing demeanor. The slight crinkling of Loki's eyes gave Tony the distinct impression that Loki was intentionally fucking with him. 

The multi-billionaire was somewhat annoyed by the fact that he couldn't pin Loki's motives down, and also vaguely aware of the fact that Loki was leaning over the counter as if listening to some lewd and lascivious gossip, his green eyes sultry and amused. 

Tony almost entertained his own lewd thoughts while taking a longer pull from the cup but was jarred of his thoughts when Loki suddenly righted himself back over the other side of the counter, returning to his normal elegant posture and straightening out his green apron in a very curt business-like manner. He looked like the cat that got the canary and Tony was suddenly on edge. Again.

"Now..."

That victorious voice settled on Tony's stomach like curdled milk and once again he felt as though he was being toyed with, but couldn't tell if it was a harmless sort of being toyed with or malicious. Tony was pretty damn sure figuring Loki out would take some serious effort. 

"If you survive, Stark, I--"

Loki neatly sidestepped the very recently airborne stream of coffee spewing from Tony's mouth with a stunning grace and this time smiled in a way that was pure trouble. He was entirely fucking with Tony. Son of a bitch!

Tony spent the next few minutes hating that stupid victorious smile and spluttering indignant, undecipherable words through coughing up coffee that had relocated into his lungs. Angry, Tony slammed his stupid-fucking-coffee cup down on the counter and glared at the god. 

Loki was still smiling infuriatingly as Tony’s coughs finally began to abate and he leaned over the counter again, drawing close to Tony and whispered low, near Tony’s ear.

“Really, Stark. I was led to believe you best of your team could, ‘take a joke’.” 

Tony was incredibly unsure if he was wishing he slept like a normal person so wouldn’t have just _needed_ his stupid coffee, or if he was wishing they had met sooner. Loki was sure as hell keeping him on his toes-- and it was exhausting. 

Either way Tony’s face was as red as his suit, _from coughing_ , and his voice still rattled with the occasional cough when another Starbucks employee trudged into the room catching Tony at his _most attractive moment ™_.

The weird sort-of kind-of playful I’m-probably-not-really-going-to-kill-you-yet atmosphere dried up as the man entered the room, breaking the undivided attention between Tony and Loki. Tony immediately assigned this man the name Shaggy.

‘Shaggy’ looked like an almost come-to-life version of the Scooby Doo character. He was impossibly tall-- taller than Loki by a few good inches, and had wide-set shoulders and awkward gangly limbs. He was a little less waifish than the actual character, and you could tell you probably didn’t want to get into a physical altercation with the guy, but the resemblance was striking, right down to the surfer-ish, dirty blonde mop of hair atop his head. 

Shaggy yawned and shuffled over to one of the coffee machines, obviously intent on making himself his own cup of liquid sleep, oblivious to the mood between his ex(ish)-super-villain co-worker and one of the most well-known of the Avengers.  
Loki refocused on his co-worker, making some sour remark about filing a complaint against him for laziness or simply being dull-witted. 

In response a woman dragged herself from behind the curtain towards the caffeine dispensers and retorted that management had received the complaint and filed it under: Miscellaneous Shit That Can Be Ignored. 

In a way, Tony was entranced by these exchanges. Was Loki, the god of mischief, really semi-bantering with non-super mortals? Obviously he expected the manager’s response, and he didn’t look genuinely bothered or put-off by it.

The manager in question looked like a dwarf compared to her giant employees. She was roughly 5 feet tall, with short platinum blonde hair and dark, dramatic makeup in blacks and reds. Every single accessory she wore had skulls or was skulls or implied skulls. A few tattoos peaked out from the hem of her sleeves, and she looked like the kind of person who had gone by a nickname her entire life and probably didn’t like anyone, ever. Skeletor, then. 

So, Skeletor, Shaggy, and Loki all squabbled while they made morning pick-me ups and Tony, feeling out of place in how... normal it all seemed for Loki, decided it was time to go home. Not only had the exchange with Loki woken him up, but it had also drained his last reserves. No coffee, no matter how delicious, could fix that. He needed to go home and get some actual sleep so he could organize all of this new Loki information on a brain that wasn’t sleep deprived.

He pulled out his wallet, realizing that between all of the banter he hadn’t even paid, and pulled out a benjamin. Now it was his turn to lean over the counter, but he looked far less sultry and immensely more tired. Tony lightly tapped Loki’s arm to grab his attention and when Loki turned to look at him and the bill gave him an exasperated sigh. Regardless he went to open the drawer, hoping he could break the large bill but Tony put an immediate stop to that.

“Keep it. I don’t like keeping anything smaller than a $100 bill in my wallet. I don’t think I’d even know what to do with the change.”

Loki shot him a look stranded somewhere between annoyed and grateful towards the ridiculously eccentric billionaire and deftly pocketed the money. Tony flashed him his best shit-eating grin and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Stark?”

Tony spun back around, entirely too energetically for a man who’d had a grand total of four hours of sleep in so many days, and gave Loki his ‘who, me?’ face.

“Tell my brother of this and I’m sure getting back into _old habits_ wouldn’t be _too terribly difficult._ ”

Tony really wanted to make him say the ‘magic’ word but was feeling as though he’d overstayed his welcome, judging by the look on Loki’s face. 

“Sure thing, Rudolph.”

**______________________________**

It wasn’t until Tony had gotten home, finally, and laid down to go to sleep that he realized that Loki had never told him what his coffee was.

**______________________________**

_He dreamt of poisoned coffee and lewd, lascivious, emerald eyes._

**______________________________**

**______________________________**


	2. Small update

Hey guys, I'm just letting ya'll know that i've picked up work on this again and i've got the next chapter a couple thousand words in already. (Pre-beta, of course)

Sorry i dropped off the face of the planet- i have never been so busy in my life. Going to a full time job has actually opened up some time for me. Now that i realize how insanely busy school is going to be next year i'm going to try and write the hell out of this before that picks up again. 

 

\---

Paranoia.

**Author's Note:**

> **Alright, chapter one is complete! Now, i don’t know the first thing about coffee so I’d like some reader-input on what kind of coffee Loki gave Tony. :) Soon as i’ve decided that I’ll start writing ch2.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Drop a comment for some love or some criticism.**
> 
>  
> 
> **((Good note the next two weeks will be a transition period of me moving from one apartment to another via a long series of convoluted events and a lack of foresight. I don't suspect i'll have any trouble writing the next chapter but if I do, well, that's why. If i'm still kicking up on Tumblr you can yell at me for being a lazy ass. Also blame Lackadaisydreams for getting me into Sherlock. I feel this might engulf lots of my free time. Okay, ta,)**
> 
>  
> 
> **-Paranoia**


End file.
